


as you are when we are alone

by GreenyLove



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AFAB/AMAB terms, Cockwarming, Crying During Sex, Dirty Talk, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Large Cock, Light D/s, M/M, Mirror Sex, Morning Sex, Multiple Orgasms, No Condom, Overstimulation, PIV Sex, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Size Difference, Size Kink, Trans Male Character, Trans Tsukishima Kei, Wet & Messy, also very mild, but very earnest, but very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenyLove/pseuds/GreenyLove
Summary: Bokuto loves Tsukishima when he’s bossy, when he pinches and shoves and tells Bokuto exactly what he wants. His lover demands and it is his deepest pleasure to satisfy.But he loves, loves, when he gets Tsukishima like this: sleepy and shy and open.Hungry for his touch.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 24
Kudos: 388





	as you are when we are alone

**Author's Note:**

> happy 400+ followers on [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)! here is the bktsk i wished to see in the world. please enjoy, and thanks for the wonderful times. <3

Bokuto Koutarou adores every inch of Tsukishima Kei.

The feet that stroke his calves beneath the table when they eat out. 

Thighs that squeeze his waist and yank him closer, a wordless demand to go deeper.

His pale, smooth stomach, the dip in his waist. The abs that clench on the nights when Tsukishima fucks him with the strap they picked out together. 

The beauty marks on his chest, the small tattoos beneath his nipples. A moon and a star, no larger than his fingernail, adoring his pecs like tiny jewels. 

And his face. The expressive mouth that pouts and smirks and goes red when he chews it, lost in thought. The cheeks that turn pink against his will. The honeysuckle eyes framed by the longest lashes in Japan. Tsukishima likes to downplay his own emotions but he can’t keep his heart out of those eyes. At least not to Bokuto, who welcomes all his moods, his highs and his lows, with strong open arms.

Bokuto loves Tsukishima when he’s bossy, when he pinches and shoves and tells Bokuto exactly what he wants. His lover  _ demands  _ and it is his deepest pleasure to satisfy. 

But he loves,  _ loves _ , when he gets Tsukishima like this: sleepy and shy and open. 

Hungry for his touch.

“Tsukki, babe.” The roll of his hips slows but doesn’t stop, languid thrusts that drag his cock all the way out and all the way back in. The wet sound of his lover’s body opening up as he slides deep sends a hot rush up his spine. 

He tips his head back towards the ceiling, gritting his teeth. One broad hand palms Tsukishima’s ass, spreading his cheeks until Bokuto can see the untouched curl of muscle above where his dick splits his folds. Under the weight of Bokuto’s gaze, Tsukishima shivers. 

“You close?” 

Tsukishima trembles beneath him. He hugs his arm tighter around his pillow. With his face buried, all Bokuto can see are heaving shoulders and sweat-damp curls made wild by the slender hand that twists his hair into anxious clumps on the back of his head. Those eyes are hidden away but Bokuto notes the flush on his neck and shoulders, sweeping down to the plummy hickeys along his spine. 

“D-Don’t stop or I’ll kill you.” It’s a weak threat. 

“Is that a yes?” Bokuto thrusts in again and grinds his cock deep as he can reach. It makes the boy beneath him thrash and cry out. “I think you are. Will you ride me? I wanna see you.” 

Bokuto pulls out with a noisy  _ shlick _ . Tsukishima groans in protest as the bigger man guides him off his belly and onto his hands and knees. It takes a little cajoling to get Tsukishima astride him, but shit — the view is worth it. 

Tsukishima is always gorgeous. In the grocery store in his sweats, on the court in his jersey, in tailored pants and long-sleeved sweaters. In the morning when the light through the curtains is greyish blue and the band shirt he sleeps in is hiked halfway up his stomach. But like this? Naked and breathless, hands balanced on Bokuto’s chest, looking down at him with a hungry furrow between his brows? 

Bokuto jams a pillow behind his back and pulls the blonde in by those narrow hips. He steadies his cock against Tsukishima’s slit and guides him down. He pops back inside and startles a breathy moan out of the blonde. Tsukishima’s thighs shake as he lowers him down to hilt. 

“Ah,  _ ah!” _

“Feels really good,” Bokuto murmurs, his smile soft. He squeezes Tsukishima’s hips encouragingly. “Can you move for me, babe?”

Tsukishima huffs, tries to catch his breath. “Too early for this,” he whines. His complaint is lost as it morphs into a long moan. 

“Let me help.” Bokuto gets his hands around those thighs, thumbs digging into the groove of his muscles. He coaxes him up and down, gritting his teeth at the tight sensation of Tsukishima’s channel bearing down against the intrusion. 

“Love you like this,” Bokuto says, catching those eyes with his own. Dazed and dreamy honey on simmering gold. “You’re so cute n’ noisy.” 

Tsukishima bites his lip and rocks faster but Bokuto keeps their measured pace, refusing to give the blonde the speed and friction he wants. He knows his love must be aching by now, and if he was in a kinder mood Bokuto would roll them again, rabbit his hips until they both tipped over the edge. But Tsukishima looks so  _ good, _ strung out between his second and third orgasm. The light outside is brighter, clementine soft where it falls through the window and highlights his body. He’s twitchy and sweaty and splotchy red, eyes half-lidded but needy.

It’s not even nine in the morning and Bokuto knows this is the best sight he will see all day.

In a burst of fierceness, Tsukishima digs his nails into Bokuto’s pecs, scoring welts from collarbone to nipple as he tries to accelerate their speed. 

“Hey, hey, Tsukki.” He tightens his grip, holds Tsukishima down while he grinds up. 

Tsukishima hisses and slaps a hand against his firm stomach. “Bo, fuck-!”

A low groan rumbles out of his chest. He lets go of Tsukishima’s hips while his own keep bucking upwards, body steadied by the heels digging into the mattress. He smooths his hands up Tsukishima’s chest, petting along the scars beneath his pecs. 

Tsukishima gasps and Bokuto coos, “So beautiful, Tsukki. Perfect.”

“B-Bo-!”

“Pretty.” Thumbs tweak peachy pink nipples, twisting them red and sore. “Handsome and beautiful.” 

Tsukishima twists his face to the side, biting white marks into his lip. “Bo!”

He strokes along those scars, the thin crescents that have healed so well.  _ “Tsukki.”  _

He reaches for Tsukishima’s dick, swollen red above where he splits him open. Before his fingers can even pet through those trimmed damp curls, Tsukishima spasms and shouts. He doubles over, curling in on himself as he comes sudden and strong. His slit clamps down, body squeezing — 

“Shit!” Bokuto only needs to fuck up into the hot vice twice more before he moans low, spilling sticky and thick inside. 

The heat of his release fills Tsukishima until he’s shaking. He lowers himself down until his cheek rests between Bokuto’s pecs, breath tremulous and hot on his skin. Bokuto rubs a hand up and down his love’s back as they both bask in the endorphin rush. It’s quiet in the apartment and the street outside, neighborhoods still stirring around them. He wants to sink into this moment and never leave.

He’s still inside Tsukishima, his cock depositing the last few drops of his release. Slick leaks down his sac and cools across his thighs. He moves to slide out — and stops when Tsukishima’s legs squeeze hard. 

“Wait.” Tsukishima sniffs, wiggling his arms around his neck. “C-Can we stay like this?” 

Okay, that’s hot. Bokuto swallows, dick giving a valiant twitch. Tsukishima must feel it. He grumbles something about  _ monster stamina _ . Bokuto slings an arm over him and hugs him close, smooshing his nose against those soft waves. Even damp with sweat, it smells faintly like mint and rosemary shampoo. He pets down his sides and Tsukishima shivers. And keeps shivering, face hidden against his chest. 

“Are you okay?” Bokuto’s brows shrug inward. He bites his lip. “Did I push too hard?” 

“No.” Tsukishima lifts his face up only to stretch up and bury it against his neck. His voice warbles when he mumbles, “It was good.” 

“Tsukki, what’s wrong?” He kisses his forehead, his hair, his ear. He tucks a finger under his jaw and encourages his face up until he can pout at him properly. “We’re supposed to share our feelings out loud. I still can’t read minds!” 

Flushed, Tsukishima insists, “I’m fine.” 

His eyes dart to the side. Bokuto frowns and tries another tactic. “You came really hard. Tell me what I did right.” He drags his lips lightly along his jaw and kisses the curl of his ear. “Tell me, so I can do it again.” 

Tsukishima shudders, his slit fluttering around his dick. “Shut up,” he grumbles, but his hips hitch restlessly. 

Bokuto fits his hands around each globe of his pert pink ass and spurs on his rocking motions. “Please? It can’t be that bad. I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.” 

Tightening his grip, Tsukishima hides his face once again, breath dewy and warm on the side of his neck. Still drowsy from his incredible orgasm, Bokuto doesn’t push. Just massages his ass and the back of his thighs, humming with every little grind and erratic seize of the tight body around him. He traces one hand down to where they are connected, smearing slick and lube around Tsukishima’s folds and his own stiffening flesh. 

Tsukishima mumbles something, but it gets lost against Bokuto’s skin. 

“What was that?” 

“I saw myself,” the blonde repeats. He pushes himself upright and gestures shyly to the right. “In the mirror.” 

Bokuto is absolutely not drowsy anymore. 

He turns to the mirror in question, a full-length piece with a thin gold frame. A newer edition to the bedroom, it leans against the wall across from the bed. The mounting hardware is still in its plastic packaging on the nightstand, waiting for Tsukishima to finally choose a place to hang it. 

Maybe he can convince him to leave it there. 

He can see both of them: his own body is large and tanned beneath Tsukishima’s smooth and lean limbs. Bokuto meets his own eyes, sees his own disheveled hair and sweaty neck. His own hands, so broad where they hold Tsukishima, who steals his breath away. Bokuto looks exerted but Tsukishima looks debauched, hunched on his lap, staring at Bokuto’s reflection — no, his  _ own _ reflection. At the hickeys and bruises and nail marks on his own skin. At his own ass, clenched in Bokuto’s hands. 

Bokuto catches his gaze. Tsukishima turns red and looks sharply away. 

“We look good together,” Bokuto says, too aroused to pretend to be casual. “Is that why you came before I touched you? Because you saw yourself? Saw me fucking you?” 

Tsukishima ducks his head, avoids his gaze. “This doesn’t have to be a thing.” 

“Why are you embarrassed?” He asks, genuinely confused. He sits up. He’s half-hard, and getting harder. 

Tsukishima gasps as he adjusts, cradled in the bowl of Bokuto’s legs. “I-It’s weird.” 

“Do you like looking at me when I’m turned on?” 

Those honey eyes narrow, like he knows where this is going. “Yes.” 

Bokuto cocks his head to the side, grin sharp and triumphant. “So it shouldn’t be weird to like looking at yourself when you’re turned on!” 

“I — it’s me I don’t like. I mean,” he cuts off, frustrated. “It’s just strange. And embarrassing.” 

Something bubbles up in Bokuto’s chest, the urgent need to erase every bit of self-doubt from Tsukishima’s beautiful brain. He cups his cheek and kisses him soft but deep, eases open his lips and rubs their tongues together. He massages along the roof of his mouth and licks his teeth, slow and indulgent like he has nowhere better to be. (He doesn’t.) 

Their chins are spitty by the time he draws back, licking the taste of Tsukishima off his lips. His companion blinks, dazed, and Bokuto rests their foreheads together. “Can you go again, Tsukki?” 

“I — I think so.” 

Bokuto grins. He finds an old hickey on the side of Tsukishima’s neck and sucks a fresh bruise on top. “Good. Gonna show you.”

Tsukishima jolts and moans, and moans again when the motion stirs his slit around Bokuto’s fully erect dick. “Show me what?” 

“How much you’re worth looking at.” 

Honeysuckle eyes go wide. Bokuto smiles and dumps him backwards on the bed. He finally slides out and Tsukishima whines, sucking in a sharp breath. He doesn’t leave him empty for long. Tsukishima takes two fingers easily, hot and pliant as his body sucks him down to the knuckles. Bokuto groans as his own cum oozes out as his fingers begin to move. 

“You gotta watch, okay?” With his free hand, he tilts Tsukishima’s face towards the mirror. Tsukishima can see himself, his chest and belly and his own bent legs. And a glimpse of Bokuto’s hair as he lowers himself between his thighs. 

“Go —  _ od, shit,”  _ Tsukishima stutters, words melting into a high-pitched whine as Bokuto seals his mouth around his dick. Two hands immediately fly down to fist his silver-streaked hair. 

Bokuto grins around his mouthful. He loves the feeling of Tsukishima’s swollen nub getting stiffer and hotter against his tongue. All three inches fit so perfectly in his mouth and between his lips. He licks at the tip and grins when Tsukishima’s hips jump. He bobs his lips along the tender flesh, sucking like it’s candy, before pulling off and venturing further down. He licks at the place where his own fingers vanish into Tsukishima, tasting his own salty spend mixed with his lover’s honey sweetness. 

His own dick jumps between his thighs and he clenches his abs to stop himself from grinding down against the mattress. Bokuto gets teased for his impatience but now he feels the calm mantle of hyperfocus settle on his shoulders. This will be something worth waiting for. 

He pulls back and looks up at Tsukishima, only to find the blonde hiding his face behind his arm. 

“Baby,” Bokuto chides, voice raspy. “You’re not watching.” 

He crawls slowly upwards, dragging his tongue up the body below him from naval to chin, drinking in the curve and arch as Tsukishima chases his touch. When he is once again level with Tsukishima’s face, he lifts his arm away and presses kisses to his cheeks, to the bolt of his jaw. “How will you see what I want to show you if you don’t watch?” 

“I-I can’t.” 

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Bokuto teases, though his eyes are soft and forgiving. He nuzzles his nose against the side of his head. “I’d never lie to you, Tsukki. Trust me, okay?” 

Tsukishima inhales, and releases a watery sigh. “Okay.” 

Giddy, Bokuto swoops in for an eager kiss, then pulls back. He claps a playful smack on Tsukishima’s rear. “Get up, then! Off the bed. Just for a sec.” 

Tsukishima squints in confusion but obliges. He stands on wobbly knees, arms wrapped around his middle. Bokuto melts at the sight. Sunrise glistens on his pale hair and catches on the drops of wetness trailing slowly down his thigh. 

Quickly, he scoots to the edge and throws his own legs over the side. Feet flat and thighs wide, he pats his lap and grins at his lover. “Okay, ready!”

Tsukishima steps hesitantly between his legs. He lets Bokuto turn him around and draw him into his lap, back to front — 

“Shit,” he whimpers. Bokuto grins. 

The mirror catches everything. They are fully in frame: Bokuto’s powerful thighs and broad shoulders, Tsukishima pale and long and lean as he reclines against his chest. Bokuto is so wide, he can see his own body on either side of Tsukishima’s. He grabs the blonde behind the knees and lifts him off his feet. Tsukishima yelps, arms flying back to clutch at his shoulders, one hand clamping across the back of his neck. 

“Damn.” Bokuto’s voice is rough and low. His biceps tense as he adjusts to Tsukishima’s weight, spreading those beautiful legs wide. “You can see all the hickeys on your thighs. And how red you are.” 

His gaze drops down to Tsukishima’s puffy folds, his blood-swollen dick. Bokuto tilts his own hips up, dick bumping against that wet, gaping slit. He hooks his chin over Tsukishima’s shoulder and whispers against the edge of his jaw. 

“My hands are full, Tsukki. You gonna put me inside?” 

Tsukishima breath saws in and out, harsh and reedy. He reaches down, chalks the palm of his hand across Bokuto’s cockhead, already wet with precum. He pumps as much as he can reach until Bokuto bites his shoulder in impatience. With a whimper, he guides him inside. Bokuto breaches him effortlessly, he’s so wet and loose and spread open. Tsukishima flings his head back and yells. 

Bokuto bites back his own shout, grip white-knuckled on his companion’s thighs. “Tsukki. Watch yourself. Watch me fuck you.” 

Tsukishima peers at the mirror, shy and uneasy, his cheeks and forehead bright with embarrassment. Bokuto draws back, then slides back in. The range of motion is limited but this position puts direct pressure on Tsukishima’s anterior walls. He can feel his cock scrape across his g-spot with every sharp movement. He watches Tsukishima’s eyes go half-lidded, his mouth slack. Each upward thrust has him bouncing, little gasps and moans hiccuping out of him. His head falls back. 

Bokuto goes still. 

“Eyes open, Tsukki.” He nuzzles against his ear, rolls the lobe between his teeth. “Or I’ll stop.” 

Tsukishima whimpers, twists his face into his own bicep as he claws half-heartedly at Bokuto’s shoulders. He squirms, and Bokuto lets him but stays hard and unmoving inside him. Soon those hazy eyes drift back to the mirror. He meets Bokuto’s intense gaze and shivers. 

“Good,” Bokuto praises, just to watch that pretty blush spread lower on his chest. 

He keeps his promise, fucks him steady and deep. And when his attention strays or he closes his eyes, Bokuto stops. He works him up until he’s hot and dripping, thighs trembling in his grip. The friction builds until each pause feels mean. Sex-drunk and sweaty, Tsukishima struggles to keep his eyes open, whining in despair each time Bokuto’s cock stills inside of him. 

It’s hot. It burns him up from the inside out.

He is deeply grateful to have already come once. Bokuto knows he has impressive stamina, but he wouldn’t have lasted, not with the love of his life falling apart in his lap. 

Tsukishima whimpers, gaze drifting. He cries out when Bokuto stills. “N-No, please!” 

“Tell me,” Bokuto growls against the back of his neck. Tsukishima’s eyes fly open. “Tell me how good it feels to watch yourself. Tell me the truth, and you can cum.” 

“I — I-!” Tsukishima squeezes his eyes shut, drawing together the scraps of his focus. “I like-!” 

“Yeah?” 

“I like...how we look together.” His eyes find Bokuto’s. “I like how I look when I’m with you.” 

Bokuto inhales. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his orgasm at bay. He kisses the tears gathered on Tsukishima’s jaw. 

“Proud of you,” he coos, raw with sincerity. Tsukishima flushes, the corner of his red mouth twitching up. 

Wrapping one arm around his middle, Bokuto slides two fingers on either side of Tsukishima’s dick. Tsukishima jackknifes up into his touch with a loud yell, nearly unseating himself. Bokuto laughs, breathless, and holds him down as he works him over. 

“I said you could come.” Their gazes catch and Bokuto blinks innocently. “Don’t you wanna?” 

“Fucking-!” The insult is lost as Tsukishima’s eyes roll back and he rockets off the edge. He goes almost overwhelmingly tight. Bokuto swears as a fresh wave of wetness bursts over his dick, dripping onto the sheets and puddling on the floor. The orgasm  _ lasts, _ Tsukishima’s slit so compressed it’s a fight to bully his cock any deeper. Tsukishima humps against his fingers until his core gives out, quivering in his arms. 

His lover goes limp but Bokuto is tense as a coiled spring. Bokuto kisses his shoulder in apology. “Hang on.” 

He lifts Tsukishima off his lap and tips him forward onto his own feet. Tsukishima cries out, so shaky on his legs that he stumbles sideways. Bokuto moves fast — flies to his feet and steadies Tsukishima by the hips. He lines up and presses a thumb down on the top side of his dick. His cock catches. He snaps inside and feels dizzy as Tsukishima shrieks. He grabs him by his biceps just above the fold of his elbows, and lets himself  _ go. _

At his full height, the mirror cuts off at his chin, but that doesn’t matter because he doesn’t care about his own sculpted chest or rippling abdominals. All he sees is Tsukishima — blown out pupils, teary cheeks. Wrenched back by his arms, the pose pushes his chest forward so Bokuto can see how it rises and falls with each desperate breath. 

Best of all, Tsukishima is transfixed on his reflection, drinking in how his own knees buckle inward, how he can barely see where Bokuto fills him over and over beyond the concave curve of his own stomach. Bokuto fucks him deeper, pistons so fast his ass turns pink where their bodies smack together. Tsukishima wails but even with tears catching on his lashes, he doesn’t look away. 

Bokuto smiles, bites his lip against the euphoria swelling in his chest. “Love you, _love you,_ Kei, _oh shit.”_

_ “K-Kou.”  _

“Touch your dick, baby, please.” 

Tsukishima gasps and shakes his head, bangs sticking to the skin beside his eyes. “Too much, I-I can’t.”

“Look at you, baby.” Bokuto wraps an arm around his middle, hand splayed across his chest to keep him steady. His other hand winds through Tsukishima’s hair, keeping his face forward. He kisses softly behind his ear. “You can do anything.” 

Tsukishima sobs and cups his sex. His fingertips brush his entrance, their point of connection where Bokuto fucks him wide open. Each thrust drives him forward, grinds his dick against his own palm. 

Bokuto feels that hummingbird heart flutter against his palm. “God, yes, baby. Gonna make us both come.” 

He hilts, and grinds  _ deep.  _ Tsukishima wails, and they fall apart together. 

Bokuto’s vision goes grey. For a moment, he’s numb, only lava sounds between his ears as Tsukishima wrings his orgasm out of him. Somehow, he blinks his eyes back into focus in time to catch Tsukishima, red-faced and shuddering, gasping through the heights of his pleasure with tears dripping down his neck. Bokuto rocks his hips gently, holds him close and works him through it. 

“Kou,” Tsukishima whines weakly. 

“I’m here.” He presses a reverent kiss against his shoulder. “I’ve got you.” 

When his own legs start to cramp, he gently pulls out. A rush of stickiness follows; Tsukishima squirms in protest. Bokuto kisses his neck in apology as he lowers them both to the floor, back against the bed with Tsukishima collapses against him. It’s not comfortable but he’s way too floaty to care, a soft smile blooming across his face. He sighs and holds his love close, pets his hair and lets him sniffle against his chest.

Slowly, they come back to themselves. 

Tsukishima huffs, rubbing his thighs together. “I’m gross.” 

“Want me to start a bath?” Bokuto offers, petting through his hair, arms draped around his shoulders. “You get clean and I’ll cook?”

Tsukishima rubs his nose against his collar. “You’re sweaty too. And I’ll fall asleep in the bath.” 

“Guess we’ll have to shower together!” Bokuto chirps happily, tipping his head back against the bed. “And  _ then _ I’ll cook.” 

Tsukishima grunts in agreement, though neither of them make any attempt to peel apart, content to soak up the peaceful silence for another few moments. Finally, Tsukishima shifts with a groan. He sits up and twists around. His eyes are warm, soft as sunrise. 

“Thank you.” 

Bokuto beams. “You’re welcome!” 

Tsukishima smacks his shoulder. “Stop, I’m not done yet.” He rests a hand palm-down on Bokuto’s chest and takes comfort in the stalwart rhythm of his heart. He steadies his breath and smiles, shy and soft. “You...bring out the best in me. Even when I can’t see it myself.”

“I love you too, Tsukki.” Bokuto kisses his nose and laughs when he scrunches up his face. “Come on. Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
